Friday, September 10, 2010

Going home

I get on the bus at Hlemmur and can’t get through turnstile with my wide backpack, so I stay up front and chat to the bus driver in Icelandic. Now the city bus drivers in Reykjavík have a reputation for being quite rude (as opposed to the very friendly country bus drivers) and I’ve come across some real mean specimens over the years. But this nice man really impresses me with his kindness. Maybe he likes my attempt at speaking his language. After all, my new trick is to just babble on endlessly, telling all kinds of stories – that way they’re not tempted to switch into English, no matter how horrible my grammar is. Anyway, as my bus stop approaches at BSÍ, and I’m ready to hop off board, the driver says “biddu, biddu (wait, wait)” - so I wait. And he leaves his scheduled route and drives me straight to the door of the bus terminal and waves a friendly goodbye. I’m rooted to the spot when my mouth open in amazement for several minutes before I go inside. How absolutely unbelievable – and what a nice, memorable experience during my last hours in this country.

Sigrún is at the BSÍ and we fly home together to Berlin. She’s looking forward to her life in the city after another summer in the guesthouse, and I fly with a heavy heart, since I would much rather stay in Iceland. But my next trip is booked already.
Bless á meðan...